


Blackbird

by Aki_Aiko



Category: Glee
Genre: Character Death, Homophobia, Incest, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-25
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-04 07:34:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aki_Aiko/pseuds/Aki_Aiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when things between Kurt and Blaine start to heat up, a family secret surfaces to break them apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Warnings:  Incest, character death, Mpreg, homophobia.  
  
Chapter One-  
  
The girl at the bar, small and lovely to look at, introduced herself with a flirty smile almost hidden by the beer stein held up to her mouth by one tiny fist.  Burt's wedding ring remained tucked away in his front pocket where he always put it before working on engines at the shop.  Normally, he'd slip it back on before even getting on the road to go home but, hell, what was the point?  He had a stack of papers at home waiting to signed.  Once he'd scrawled his name on the dotted lines, he'd be a divorced man.  Seven years of marriage down the drain.  
  
High school sweethearts weren't meant to last, anyway.  
  
"So what are you thinking about?" Laura asked.  She had an accent to her voice that Burt couldn't place.  "Is it about a girl?"  
  
Burt picked up his own glass and took a drink.  "She's not important."  
  
"Hmm, yes, I suppose now isn't really the time to bring up old loves."  She eyed his hand speculatively but said nothing about the white strip of skin circling the ring finger of his left hand.  
  
There wasn't much talk between them, just coy looks and soft touches.  Burt charged a motel room to his already strained credit card, and they spent the night together.  It wasn't making love; they were just two drunk, lonely strangers having a one night stand.  
  
She was gone when Burt woke up in the morning, hungover and out of sorts.  He pulled himself out of bed, pulled on his work clothes from yesterday, and stumbled to where his truck was parked out front.  The house he and Connie lived in appeared all too soon.  Nine years together and it was all over, all because of money.  Well, lack of money, to be precise.  They should never have bought that house.  
  
The lights got turned off yesterday, so it was dark when he stepped through the side door.  Connie waited for him at the kitchen table.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
He expected her to comment on the state of his rumpled clothes or the stench of alcohol that wafted from his body, but instead she folded her hands together and said something completely different.  
  
"We need to talk."  
  
Burt grunted.  "I'm signing the papers, you don't need to hover over me-"  
  
"I'm pregnant, Burt."  
  
His mouth dropped open in shock and he stared at her, too stunned to speak.  They'd been trying to get pregnant for years, only giving up hope in this last year of marriage.  And now she was pregnant...just when they were about to get divorced.  
  
"What are you going to do?"  
  
"God, I'm not giving up my child."  Her lip curled in disgust and Burt wanted to throttle her for it.  
  
"I meant about us."  There was no way in hell she was shutting him out of his child's life.  He'd go to court if he had to.   He'd find the money somehow.  
  
"Oh."  She settled back into her seat.  Her eyes softened.  "I don't want to raise it alone."  
  
He took a seat across the table from her.  "Do you still want to...?"  
  
"I don't know.  If you'd just ask my dad for that loan or let me take more hours at the store.  We can't keep struggling like this, especially not with a baby on the way."  
  
Burt knew he had a lot of pride, maybe too much of it if he had to be honest with himself, but it was time to put it away, for the sake of his unborn child.  He reached out to lay a hand on top of her's.  
  
"Okay.  Call him.  Let him know, though, that I will be paying him back as soon as things pick up."  And she could work more if she wanted to, whatever she wanted, so long as she stayed.  
  
Eyes filling with tears, Connie stood and leaned across the table to hug him.  He moved to the side to better pull him to her.  His hands slid around her waist, one sliding down to her stomach where a tiny life rested inside.  
  
They were going to have a baby.  
  
x  
  
16 YEARS LATER  
  
Burt could hear them upstairs giggling when he walked through the front door.  
  
"-and then she fell," Kurt was saying, "right off the runway."  
  
"I have got to see this," Blaine said and then there was silence, followed by a brief bout of renewed giggling, Kurt's voice high and breathy, so different from Blaine's low chuckles.  
  
Burt climbed the stairs to go say hi to his son but frowned when he saw the door was shut.  Sure, Kurt and Blaine weren't dating, but they were both gay boys.  He wouldn't have let Finn shut the door to his room if any of the girls from New Directions, simply a friend or not, were in his room.  This was no different, no matter what Kurt said on the subject.  
  
"Hey, buddy," Burt said as he opened the door.  "You know the rules.  Door open."  
  
Kurt looked up from his computer with a sullen look on his face but Blaine spoke before he could start ranting at his father.  
  
"Sorry, Mr. Hummel.  We completely forgot.  It won't happen again."  
  
Burt nodded at him.  "See that it doesn't."  He turned to Kurt.  "Me and Carole are gonna do are best to make it to that Regionals thing.  Two weeks, right?"  
  
Kurt managed a smile through his obvious irritation.  The two of them rarely stayed mad at each other for long.  "Right."  
  
Burt rapped smartly at the door, causing Kurt's little yellow bird to start chirping.  Burt could hear Kurt cooing at it as he walked away.  
  
x  
  
The bird died before the big competition.  Kurt came to Burt's bedroom teary-eyed with the tiny body cupped in his hands.  
  
"Dad," he sobbed. holding it out for inspection.    
  
"Oh, geez," Burt said.  "I'm sorry.  You want to get a new one?"  
  
Kurt pulled away, appalled.  "Pavarotti was special.  We can't just replace him."  
  
Burt ran a head over the top of head.  "Alright.  Let me get a trash bag and we can go bury him in the backyard."  
  
Kurt looked horrified at the suggestion.  He turned away and wailed, "Carole."  
  
Burt sat on the edge of his bed and sighed.  When he was a kid, they'd buried his favorite pet, a bulldog named Dozer, out in the backyard near his sister's swingset.  Sure, it was sad, but they didn't have a funeral for it.   
  
He laughed, shaking his head.  Kurt was all about the drama, he should have remembered that.  If Connie were still with them, no doubt she'd be right there by his side, writing an obiturary for the local paper.  Kurt took after his mom in so many ways.  It was as if he really had come from her body.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days after Pavarotti died, Kurt came home practically giddy.  Burt watched him float by with a raised

eyebrow.  
  
"What are you so happy about?"  Carole asked as she passed him in the hall.  
  
"Love, Carole.  Love."  Kurt grabbed her by the hands and spun her around in a small circle before letting her go.    
  
"Well."  Carole sat next to Burt on the couch.  "I'd say things between Kurt and Blaine are getting serious."  
  
Burt shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  He'd long ago accepted that his son was gay.  He just didn't really wanted to think about the physical aspect that entailed.  This was his _son_ , after all.  
  
Carole chuckled and squeezed his hand.  
  
When Burt went upstairs to say good night to the boys he heard Kurt talking quietly on the phone.  His voice was soft, without that harder edge that normally crept into his voice during the day.  Burt hovered by his door, but couldn't bring himself interrupt when Kurt sounded so...open.  He never sounded like that, not even with him.  
  
The next morning, he sat Kurt down on the couch.  
  
"So you planning on telling me what's going on with that Blaine kid?"  
  
Kurt looked at him warily.  "You want to discuss boys with me?"  
  
Burt really didn't, but couldn't tell Kurt that.  "I want to discuss this boy with you.  You two dating now?"  
  
Kurt's face suddenly brightened and he braced his hands primly against his knees, taking a deep breath before speaking.  "He kissed me."  
  
"Oh."  Burt shifted again and rubbed the top of his head.  "That's good, right?"  
  
"It's fantastic!"  He frowned.  "You're uncomfortable with this, aren't you?  Because it's a guy."  
  
"Am I uncomfortable hearing  about you  kissing some guy?  'Course I am.  You're my son.  I like to think you're going to wait until you're thirty until you go around kissing people."  
  
"So you'd feel the same way about Finn?"  
  
"It's not that I don't want those things for you, you know that, but I didn't hold Finn in my arms when he was a baby or sit up with him when he got sick or any of those things I did with you."  
  
A small smile appeared on Kurt's face.  "So you're okay with this?"  
  
Burt was saved from answering by the doorbell ringing.  Blaine waited on the other side.  While he and Kurt walked out to Blaine's car, Burt watched them from the front window.  Blaine's hand entwined with Kurt's and they swung them lightly between them.  Burt let the curtain fall shut.  
  
x  
  
"Wait, wait, wait."  Kurt pulled away from Blaine, fixing his hair as he sat up from his place in the backseat of his boyfriend's car.  They were parked off a back road where no one could see them and had spent the past ten minutes making out.    
  
"What is it?"  Blaine asked.  His eyebrows were pulled down in worry.  "What's wrong?"  
  
Kurt twisted his hands in his lap.  "There's something you should know."  
  
"That never sounds good."  
  
"Oh!  No."  Kurt quickly turned and took Blaine's hands in his.  "It's just...you know how I told you about me and Dad having The Talk."   
  
Blaine nodded.  
  
"Well, he told me something that really...changes what we can-what we can-"  Kurt broke off, biting his lips as he looked down at entwined hands.  
  
Blaine waited patiently.  He knew Kurt still had problems talking about sex or even making out.  It usually took Blaine waiting him out.  This time, though, Kurt remained silent, head bent down and trembling.  Blaine turned his hands up and gripped Kurt's.  
  
"Hey.  Whatever it is, you can tell me."  
  
"I can get pregnant," Kurt said all in a rush.  
  
Blaine gaped at him.  That was certainly unexpected.  "So you're a, uh..."  
  
"A c-carrier.  I'm a carrier."  
  
"Isn't that dangerous?"  
  
"Yes.  Which is why if we ever, you know, we have to use c-condoms."  The last word was said in an embarrassed mumble.   
  
"Okay."  Blaine took a deep breath.  "That's okay.  Condoms are a good thing.  That's what they're there for, to protect against STDs, infections, and pregnancies, too."  
  
Kurt gave him a wry look.  "I don't need a lecture, Blaine.  I have pamphlets."

  
"Aw, geez, I'm sorry.  You still want to-?"  Blaine raised an eyebrow suggestively and gestured between them.    
  
Kurt hesitated only for a moment before surging forward and capturing Blaine's lips in his own.  He let himself be lowered back against the door.  
x  
  
His dad was waiting for him on the couch when he got home.  
  
"Hey, buddy," Burt said.  "How'd it go?"  
  
Kurt sighed and dropped onto the space next to him.  "He took it surprisingly well."  
  
Burt grunted.  "Good.  He's not doing anything you don't want, right?"  
  
"Dad!"  Kurt looked at him, scandalized.  "Wasn't the talk enough?"  
  
"I don't know.  Was it?"  Burt eyed him carefully.    
  
Kurt's hair was in place, clothes in good order, but his face was flushed and his lips red and slightly chapped.  There'd definitely been some making out while they'd been gone.  Probably not sex, not yet if he knew his son as well as he thought he did, but Burt didn't really know this Blaine kid.  Sure, he seemed nice.  But even nice guys could let their hormones overrun their common sense.    
  
Beside him, Kurt sighed and stood up.  "I'm going to start dinner before Carole and Finn get home."  
  
He scurried out of the living room to the sound of his dad's low chuckling.


	3. Chapter 3

Burt knew that Kurt was infatuated with that Blaine kid, had known it since the first time Kurt mentioned him after his transfer-for a while there, it was all the boy could talk about.  'Blaine this, Blaine that'.  Burt had been a little sick of the guy before he'd even met him.  All that adoration died down some after the whole drunken debacle at Rachel Berry's house-and his boys were never going there unsupervised again!.  The love and admiration were still there, of course, but it had tamed itself into something more realistic, more within reach of Kurt's sometimes over eager grasp.  
  
But it was nothing compared to how Kurt and Blaine looked at each other on the stage that night.  Burt didn't know nothing about music, though the song was lovely, but he did know at least a little about love.  And that look right there...that was love.  
  
He reached over and took Carole's hand.  She sent him a sweet smile before they turned back to watch the Warblers break out into a faster pace song, one where Blaine led the team around like they were attached by strings.    
  
After the competition ended, Carole went off to find Finn, while Burt hunted for Kurt.  Everything was so chaotic, they'd decided to split up to search for their two sons.  Burt found his hanging around the other Dalton boys, grinning at something one of the prep kids was saying, a hand resting on Blaine's lower back.  Burt took a moment to stare at how happy Kurt looked, the familiar tense set of his shoulders softened into something more relaxed.  
  
Kurt must have sensed him staring, because his head suddenly snapped up and he caught his father's eyes, the grin on his face blossoming into a delighted smile.  He leaned over to whisper something into Blaine's ear, then slipped away from the group.  
  
"Dad!"  His eyes shone brightly as he stopped in front of Burt and clasped his hands up in front of his chest.    
  
"Hey, kiddo."  Burt rested a hand briefly against the back of Kurt's neck.  "You did great out there.  I'm proud of you."  
  
Kurt's expression faltered.  "I know.  It's just...I really wanted to win."  
  
"Well, maybe next year," Burt said, uncertain how to handle his son's disappointment.  
  
"Yeah."  Kurt let out a small laugh.  "Next year."  
  
"Hey!"  Blaine suddenly appeared at Kurt's elbow.    
  
"Blaine."  Burt nodded at the boy, who turned to smile at Kurt.  
  
"My parents came.  They want to meet you."  
  
Kurt's eyes widened.  "R-right now?"  
  
"Of course.  You, too, Mr. Hummel.  They'd really like to meet the both of you."  
  
Burt chuckled at how Kurt suddenly started to straighten his uniform and smooth back his hair.  Blaine led them through the crowded auditorium until they reached a clearing in the forest of people.  A tall man in a suit, his short hair graying at the temples, stood with a short brunette whose back was to them.  
  
"Mom, Dad," Blaine called out.  
  
Mr. Anderson looked up and his wife turned.  Her whole body stiffened in shock as her and Burt's eyes met across the room.  It was a woman he hadn't seen in sixteen years.  
  
"Laura," Burt muttered.  
  
Mr. Anderson's eyes narrowed when he saw Burt standing in front of them and his eyes flickered between the two boys.  
  
"Mom, Dad," Blaine said, smiling proudly as he held Kurt's hand.  "This is Kurt.  My boyfriend."  
  
There was a moment of awkward silence.   
  
"That's...nice," Laura finally said.  The smile on her face was strained.  
  
Blaine gestured nervously to Burt, who felt sick to his stomach at this new revelation.  "And this is Mr. Hummel, Kurt's dad."  
  
Laura and her husband both stared at him with blank faces.  He knew he probably didn't look much better.  
  
Kurt and Blaine exchanged a glance.  
  
"So," Kurt said.  "We'll just let you two get acquainted, then.  I'm sure the Warblers are wondering where we're at by now."  
  
"No," Burt barked when Kurt tried to lead his boyfriend (his boyfriend, dear god) away.   
  
Kurt stopped and stared at him with a hurt look on his face, his hand falling away from Blaine's.  "But-"  
  
"No, Kurt.  It's time to go home."  
  
Kurt stared up at his dad's face.  "What's going on?"  
  
Burt threw a pained look at poor, confused Blaine, then grabbed Kurt by the shoulder and pushed him away from the Andersons.  "Go find Carole and Finn.  We'll talk when we get home."  
  
"I'm sorry, son," Burt said to Blaine.  "But you can't see Kurt anymore.  Not like you have been."  
  
He turned away as Blaine's face crumpled into an expression of despair.  Enough damage had been done.  No matter the hurt, the boys had to be separated.  It was for their own good.  
  
x  
  
The ride home was tense.  Kurt sat in the back seat with his arms crossed over his chest and tears in his eyes while Carole looked warily at the two Hummels from her place in the front passenger seat.  Luckily, Finn was with the rest of New Directions, celebrating their win.  No doubt he would have been asking awkward questions that Burt couldn't answer until he and Kurt were alone.  
  
Carole stopped him when they got out of the car.  Kurt stomped past them and into the house.   
  
"Burt, what's going on?  I don't think I've ever seen him look at you like that."  
  
Burt sighed and bowed his head.  "I've been lying to him, Carole.  His whole life, I've been lying to him."  
  
Another door slammed shut, probably Kurt's.    
  
"Well, whatever it is, I'm sure he'll understand," Carole said.  "He's got a good head on his shoulders.  Once you explain it to him-"  
  
"Blaine's his brother."  
  
Carole stared at him, mouth agape.  "What?"  
  
"His real mother is Laura Anderson."  
  
"B-but, wait, that's not possible.  They're too close in age."  
  
Burt shook his head.  "Blaine was three month old when she got pregnant with Kurt, and he was a few weeks early to boot."  
  
Carole's eyes filled with angry tears.  "Why didn't you tell me?"  A new thought hit her.  "Oh, my god.  Do you think they've...?"  
  
Burt sighed.  "I don't think so.  But I've gotta go tell him."  He pressed a hand against his wife's cheek.  "Don't tell Finn.  Not yet."  
  
When she nodded her head in agreement, he started towards the house, prepared to tell his son the biggest secret he'd ever kept from him, one that would change their relationship forever.


	4. Chapter 4

When Finn walked through the front door, the first thing he heard was crying. Not just crying, but big, loud sobs that reverberated throughout the house.

"Is that Kurt?" he asked his mom, who greeted them nervously at the door. "Did Kurt and Blaine break up?"

Puck smacked a fist into the palm of his hand. "I'm gonna kick that hobbit's-"

"No!" Carole raised a hand to cut him off. "You're not going to do anything, Noah, but go home."

Two boys exchanged nervous glances. Puck gave one last, considering look at the stairs and left, shutting the door behind him just as Kurt's voice yelled something unintelligible from Carole and Finn's spot downstairs.

"What's going on?" Finn asked his mother. 

Carole sighed and shook her head. "Now's not the time, Finn. Why don't you go do your homework? I'll call you when dinner's ready."

Finn knew she wanted him to stay downstairs, that she wanted him to spread his books across the coffee table and do his schoolwork there. But the sudden silence from upstairs was unnerving. When his mom disappeared to the kitchen, he sneak slowly up the stairs, wincing every time his weight made a creaking sound on the boards, but no one seemed to notice.

The first thing he heard when he neared the right bedroom was Kurt's angry voice yell, "I hate you!"

It was Burt's low, "I'm sorry," that made Finn freeze in shock. He'd never, never heard such venom in Kurt's voice, and the most negative he'd ever gotten with his dad was an irritated snap, usually accompanied by an eye roll or a put-upon sigh. Even Karofsky hadn't gotten so much hate.

Silence fell again and then, though Finn heard the approaching footsteps, the door opened too late for him to back down the stairs and out of sight.

Burt stared wearily at him, looking as if he'd aged ten years since the last time Finn had seen him. At the sudden thump of a heavy object hitting the half-open door, Burt pulled it shut and sighed, long and heavy.

"What's-" Finn started. He had to swallow the thump in his throat to get the words out properly. "Is everything okay?"

Burt just looked at him or maybe through him would have been more accurate. Finn felt invisible under Burt's stare. Finally, Burt seemed to snap out of whatever sadness had taken hold of him and moved to pass him in the hallway, one hand pressing briefly against his stepson's shoulder as he went.

Alone in the hall, Finn crept to Kurt's room and opened it a crack, just enough to see Kurt laying face-down on his bed, face pressed into one of his many pillows as he cried. Finn struggled whether or not to go in there, to offer whatever comfort he could, but in the end, the scene felt too raw and frightening.

He closed the door and crept away.

x

Kurt didn't get out of bed to go to school the next morning. He didn't even do his whole morning skin care routine. 

"Let him sleep in today," Finn heard his mom whisper to Burt.

He glanced inside the bedroom to see Kurt had rolled himself up in his blankets, feet sticking out towards the foot of the bed-and his eyes were open, staring straight at Finn.

"Dude, you okay?" Finn asked as he inched towards the bed. "Did Blaine do something?"

Kurt sniffed. "We're over, Finn." His voice sounded wrecked, probably from all that yelling and crying he'd done last night.

"What happened?"

Kurt stared at him, mouth working silently, then buried his head back into his pillow.

"Finn," Burt called reproachfully from his place at Kurt's bedroom door.

Finn went to school with nervous butterflies fluttering around his stomach. He didn't like not knowing what was going on. He'd tried to call Blaine but had only gotten sent to voicemail. Blaine wouldn't even answer the texts he sent.

Whatever'd happened, it had to be big.

"What is up with my boy?" Mercedes asked between classes, cornering Finn at his locker. "First, he refuses to answer my calls and now he doesn't even show up to school. Is he avoiding me?"

Rachel strode towards them and overrode the other girl with her strident voice. "Finn. Did something happen between Kurt and Blaine? I tried to call Blaine to confirm our non-romantic date at the community theater on Saturday but he refuses to take my calls."

"Your his brother," Mercedes added. "Spill the details."

Both girls zeroed in on him with demanding eyes that made Finn squirm. "Uh, look, guys, I don't really know what's going on, either."

"Really?" Rachel looked at him doubtfully.

"It's not like I'd lie, Rachel," Finn said, finally letting the irritation he felt creep into his voice. "No one's talking about it-whatever it is. Not my mom or Burt and definitely not Kurt."

Mercedes shook her head. "Well, this just isn't going to fly." She whipped out her phone and started hitting buttons. "Kurt's going to call me if I have to call his number all day."

"I suppose she doesn't realize that he might have turned his phone off," Rachel said as Mercedes walked away.

"Well, this is Kurt we're talking about. Isn't he, like, attached to his phone?"

Rachel smiled at Finn. "Yes, normally. But these are hardly normal circumstances. You'll let me know when you find something out."

"Yeah, sure, Rach."

Finn sighed and rested his head on his locker when he was finally alone. Glee Club was going to be hell. He had no idea what to tell everyone when they asked, and they would definitely ask. That place was gossip central. 

Well, he decided, slamming his locker shut, they'd have to figure it out on their own. He hadn't the slightest clue what was going on.

And he wouldn't. Not until someone at home talked.


	5. Chapter 5

Burt left the house that morning with a heavy heart.  Kurt was still upstairs, refusing to get out of bed, though Carole had gone in to sit with him and let him cry some more on her shoulder.  
  
It used to be _Burt_ Kurt would go to when he needed comfort.  He might have just wrecked his relationship with his son for good, though he hoped not.  But just the thought of Kurt hating him made him want to take all those secrets back in and...what?  Let the two boys keep going as they were, never knowing they were brothers?  
  
If Burt hadn't told Kurt, Laura-or, worse, Laura's husband-would have, probably the first moment he crossed over the threshold and told them who he was.  Hummel wasn't near as common a name as Anderson, especially in a small town like Lima.    
  
Back in Westerville, the Andersons had probably told Blaine exactly what Burt had to tell Kurt.  He wondered how the boy took it.  If his parents cared enough to be kind about it.  Neither Kurt nor Blaine ever said much about them but from his and Blaine's short conversation in the garage that day, he got the impression that they weren't very supportive.  
  
That tiny bit of worry is what had him on the phone on his lunch break and dialing a number that hadn't changed in sixteen years.  It was a miracle he'd even remembered what it was.  
  
"Burt," Laura sighed when he said an abrupt hello.  "What are you doing calling here?"  
  
"How's Blaine taking the news?"  No need to beat around the bush about this.  They both knew what was going on.  
  
"How do you think?  We gave him something to calm him down."  
  
"You drugged him?" Burt asked, incredulous.  
  
"Oh, don't be so dramatic.  It was just a little sherry."  
  
Burt blew out a breath in frustration.  "So he's okay, then?"  
  
"As well as can be expected."  There was an awkward pause, then, just as Burt was preparing to hang up, Laura stopped him.  "Burt."  
  
"Yeah...?"  
  
"I want to see my son."  
  
Burt's hand tightened on the phone.  "You saw him at the concert thing.  Christ, you met him."  
  
"Richard has lawyers, Burt.  You know he pays them well."  
  
His face was probably scarlet by now, he reckoned, what with how anger was making blood pound in his ears.  
  
"I'm his mother-"  
  
"You were never his mother."  
  
Another silence fell between them but this time filled with tension.  Laura didn't even warn Burt before hanging up, just left him with empty air.  Burt rubbed a hand over his face and sighed, trying to ignore the slight ache in his arm.    
  
The next day, Burt opened Kurt's door and came to the bed where Kurt was still wallowing in self pity.  He'd be going to school come Monday, whether he wanted to or not, but right now he had the whole weekend for everything to sink in.  
  
When Kurt saw him come in, he rolled in the other direction.  Burt sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Hey, kiddo.  How you feeling?"  
  
Kurt didn't answer, just huddled in on himself, arms crossed over his chest.  He'd been giving Burt the silent treatment since he broke the news to him.  
  
"Look, I know you're mad at me and I can't blame you, but we need to talk about this."  
  
Nothing.  Not even an indignant sniff.  
  
"She wants to meet you."  
  
Kurt's shoulders tensed.  "I don't want to," he muttered.  
  
"I know you don't.  But she's going to keep pushing this until you don't have a choice."  
  
"...fine.  Whatever."  
  
Burt placed a hand on his son's shoulder before getting up to leave.  
  
"So what happened to it?" Kurt suddenly asked.  
  
Burt paused, puzzled.  "What?"  
  
Kurt slowly sat up, leaned over the side of his bed, and pulled out a photo album from underneath it.  "Mom was pregnant.  There are pictures in here."    
  
He flipped through the pages of his childhood, stopping at a picture of Connie.  She had one hand pressed against her back, the other resting on the swell of her belly.  She had a proud smile on her face.  Her stomach poked out of the white tank top she wore.  
  
Burt cleared his throat.  "Miscarriage," he said roughly.  It had gotten easier over the years to pretend that it really had been Kurt in these picture, that little pang of loss eased by the fantasy.  
  
Kurt nodded knowingly.  "So I was a replacement?"  
  
"Hey!"  Burt took hold of Kurt's chin and forced him to look up.  "Your mom loved you like you were her own.  She wasn't happy with what I did, that's for sure, but she loved you just the same.  You were never a replacement."  
  
"But-"  
  
"The due dates were only a week apart.  We were going to raise the two of you together, tell everyone she had twins."  
  
Kurt's brow wrinkled.  "Would that have worked?"  
  
Burt gave a little laugh.  "We had it worked out.  But, then, you know...Connie had that fall and we lost the baby.  You were all we had left.  I think it made her love you all the more."  
  
Tears dripped from Kurt's eyes and onto the plastic sheets of the photo album.  He wiped at his eyes with the palms of his hands but pulled away when Burt tried to draw him in for a hug.  
  
"Could you leave me alone?" he sniffed.  "I haven't even started on my morning skin care regimen yet.  The past few days have wrecked havoc on my complexion."  
  
Burt stared at Kurt's pale, unblemished skin, then nodded.  "You come get me if you need to talk."  
  
Kurt's smile was watery and oh so fake.  "Sure.  I'll do that."  
  
Burt gave him one last look, then finally headed for the door.  Finn was leading Rachel Berry up the stairs.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Hummel.  I'm here to see Kurt."  She held out a plate of cookies that were covered in clear plastic wrap.  "I made some 'I'm sorry' cookies.  I know I don't have anything to apologize for, but I thought they might help him feel better."  
  
Burt hesitated but eventually nodded.  Maybe having friends over would help Kurt.  He did always say that 'girl talk' cheered him up, not that this was exactly girl talk.  
  
Rachel brightened when he moved to let her pass.  Finn hung back, shuffling his feet.  
  
Kurt immediately straightened when the two of them walked into his room.  Though he tried to look cool and composed at their entrance, his cheeks were too flushed and his eyes too bright to hide that he'd been crying.  
  
He lifted his head imperiously.  "Hello, Rachel.  What are you doing here?"  
  
Rachel hesitated, then sat beside him and nudged the plate of cookies in his direction.    
  
Kurt looked at the cookies, then back at her.  "What'd you do?"  
  
"Nothing!  I was just worried, that's all.  I thought..."  Rachel's expression faltered.  "Isn't this what friends do for each other?"  
  
Kurt managed a small smile.  "Thank you, Rachel.  But I'm fine."  
  
"Dude," Finn said, coming further into the room.  "You haven't insulted me for, like, days.  Something's up."  
  
"Is it Blaine?" Rachel asked gently, ever mindful of her own failed romance with Jesse St. James.  
  
Kurt looked between the two of them, debating on what to say.  "It's...my mother," he finally settled on.  
  
Rachel gasped.  "She's alive?!"  
  
"No."  Kurt shot her a look.  "But thank you for the painful reminder."  
  
"Sorry," Rachel muttered.  She exchanged a guilty look with Finn, who came to sit beside her.  
  
"Why don't you just tell us?" Finn asked.  "It'll probably get out anyway."  
  
Kurt sighed.  That was true.  Lima was a small town.  Things like this spread quickly...in fact, it was probably already making the rounds of the upper echelons of Westerville and would soon trickle their way.  They might as well hear it from him first.  
  
"My mom is Laura Anderson...B-Blaine's mom."  He ducked his head down at the sudden silence.  
  
Finn frowned in confusion.  "Wait, what?"  
  
Rachel made a shushing motion with her hand, then said, "Kurt.  Does this mean you and Blaine..."  
  
"Are brothers.  Well, half-brothers.  Apparently, my father had a drunken rendezvous with some strange woman at a bar once."  Kurt sniffed disdainfully.  "I was conceived in a dingy motel room-might as well have been in the back seat of his car."  
  
"That sucks, man," Finn said after a moment.  
  
"Yes, thank you, Finn."  
  
"What are you going to do?" Rachel asked.  
  
Kurt shrugged.  "Wallow in self-pity, most likely.  I'll probably be unbearable to around for quite a while."  
  
"Well," Rachel said, "as someone who is accused of being unbearable on occasion-"  
  
"So unbearable," Finn muttered a little too loudly.  Rachel tossed him a quick glare before continuing.  
  
"-I can help."  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes.  "I'm sorry, Rachel, this is nice and all, but I don't think you can help with this."  
  
"Oh."  She picked at the plastic covering the plate and pulled out a cookie to eat.  Kurt took one for himself and handed another to Finn.  The three of them sat in silence.  The cookies didn't make him feel better, but the company didn't turn out to be so bad.


	6. Chapter 6

Burt watched his son out of the corner of his eye, worry gnawing at his insides. Just beyond the heavy oak doors ahead of them, Laura Anderson waited. 

"I don't think I can do this," Kurt said, taking a step back.

Burt placed a steadying hand against his shoulder. "Yeah, you can, kiddo. Just imagine we're having some kind of fancy dinner or something-you know, the kinds you're always talking about having once you get to New York."

Kurt shot his dad a wry smile, laced with a thin line of bitterness. "I always imagined they'd be with Broadway producers, not with a woman who I have to..." He paused, eyes wide, and suddenly clutched Burt's hand. "Oh, god. I don't have to call her Mom, do I?"

Connie would have known what to do in this situation. Burt didn't. He could only flounder around helplessly and feel like the world's worst father for it.

"No," he began. "You don't have to do anything you don't want-"

"Except this," Kurt muttered.

Ignoring him, Burt went on. "Your mom will always be your mom, just as I'll always be your dad. So you call that woman in there whatever you want."

Kurt's mouth opened.

"Within reason," Burt hastened to add.

He'd expected Laura to be there and her lawyers, all lined up along the wall behind her, but what he didn't expect to see was Blaine sitting beside her, his ungelled hair a curled mess and his face pale and sickly, like he'd been crying as much as Kurt had these past few days.

Burt glared at Laura, anger flaring painfully in his chest, and turned to block Kurt's view but the boy walked through the door before Burt could. 

"Blaine," Kurt breathed in a pained voice. He stood frozen at the door with one of his hands curled up to his chest.

Blaine darted a glance up at him, but his eyes danced quickly away again, landing on the table in front of him, where he stared with a fixed determination. 

Laura's eyes, however, looked Kurt over eagerly. "Hello, Kurt," she said. "I'm so glad you could make it. Why don't you sit down?"

Kurt gave Blaine one last, longing look, then went to sit stiffly in one of the chairs. Not the one directly in front of her, Burt noted, but one slightly to the side, away from both her and Blaine.

Laura frowned at him slightly but managed to keep a polite, even, dare Burt think it, concerned look on her face. "I know you must have a lot of questions," she said.

"Does he need to be here for this?" Burt interrupted. 

Everyone turned to look at Blaine, who hunkered further down into his seat.

"Blaine's fine," Laura said, a hard edge creeping into her voice. "And I'm sure he has questions, too, don't you, honey?"

She put a hand on Blaine's arm and Burt could see it tense under the touch.

"So, Kurt." Laura removed her hand so she could spread both of them in front of her. "Ask away."

Kurt folded his arms across his chest, pressed his lips together, and stared at her from across the table. Laura's hands faltered, then dropped back down.

"Why don't I tell you about your father and I first? I'm sure you're curious how we met."

Burt shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't sure how much more of this story he really wanted his son to hear. They met at a bar, for crying out loud! It wasn't like they'd had some kind of big, romantic affair or something else that Kurt would find more palatable, nothing that would ease the sting of this betrayal. 

"Laura..."

"No," Kurt said, eyes fixed on his birth mother. "I want to hear this."

"When I was twenty, I married a very rich man named Robert Anderson and had Blaine, here, a year later. My husband has been very kind to me over the years, especially concerning this 'situation' with your father. He never threatened to divorce me or kick me out when he found out I was pregnant with another man's baby."

"So I was a 'situation'?"

Laura clucked her tongue. "Well, yes. But it doesn't mean I never cared. I just couldn't keep you."

"Dad..." Kurt looked at his father. "Can I speak to Blaine alone?"

Blaine's head jerked up and he stared at his...well, what were they now, exes? They certainly couldn't be boyfriends now.

"Are you sure about this?" Burt asked. At Kurt's nod, he turned to Laura. "Come on. Give them this, at least."

Laura frowned but stood when Burt did. "I'll be back in ten minutes." She gave the two boys one last, long look, then followed Burt out the door and into the hallway.

Kurt took a deep breath to steel himself. "Blaine...I am so sorry." His eyes were already filling with tears and turning his face an unattractive red as he sniffed miserably.

Blaine shrugged and tried to smile. "How could we have known?" His smile faded.

Kurt forced a laugh. "At least we didn't go all the way."

The silence that fell between them was awkward and painful, and Kurt wished he could take back the past few day, take back the one night between his dad and someone who wasn't his mother. He wanted Blaine back.  
.  
"So," he said, voice small. "What do we do now?"

"We're brothers, Kurt. We'll do things that brothers do."

"Will that be enough? After everything?"

Blaine stared at Kurt, then dropped his eyes back down to the table. A few tears leaked onto the tabletop. He didn't even bother to try to wipe them away. Kurt reached out as if to take his hand, something they'd always done, but remember himself in time and pulled away. Blaine didn't want to touch him now, anyway. Not like he used to.

The door suddenly opened and the adults came back into the room and took their seats. Kurt took a deep breath and tugged on the lapels of his jacket, straightening any wrinkles in his clothes. Across from him, Blaine still stared at the tabletop. He'd stopped crying, at least. His eyes were red, though.

"So," Laura said brightly. "Did you get everything worked out?"

"Yes," Kurt said, standing to leave. "I want to go home now."

Laura's mouth dropped open. "But-"

"You heard him." Burt stood and put a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "I think it's time we got out of here. Kurt?"

"Thanks, Dad." He gave Blaine another crooked smile. "Bye. Maybe I'll see you sometime?"

"Hold up!" Laura glared at the two of them. "Like it or not, I am your mother, Kurt. I have a right to see you."

Kurt lifted his chin haughtily. "My mother was Elizabeth Hummel. Carole is my mom now. You're just some woman who gave birth to me."

With that said, he turned and started to walk to the door.

"You can't just leave," Laura sputtered. She looked as if someone had just smacked her across the face with a two-by-four.

"I think he just did," Burt said. 

"But-my lawyers..." 

Her voice died away as she watched the two of them leave, neither of their steps faltering. Burt spared Blaine one last, pitying look before he went out the door. He turned to his son as soon as it closed and grasped him by the shoulders.

"You okay?"

Kurt sniffed and wiped at his eyes but nodded, managing a watery smile. "Yeah. I'm fine. Did she really threaten to sic her lawyers on you? She looks so tiny."

Burt gave in to the urge to ruffle Kurt's hair. "She sure did. Which means, this may not be over just yet."

Kurt nodded. "It's okay. Like you said, I've got you, Carole, and Finn now. She can't touch us."

Burt wanted to tell him that it wasn't that simple. Her lawyers were a real threat. The Andersons had a lot of money. If Laura really wanted to-and if her husband allowed, Burt supposed-she would have no trouble taking Kurt away from his friends and family, no matter how hard Burt would fight to keep him.

Back in the conference room, Laura snatched up her purse. Spots of color tinted her cheeks red. 

"They cannot do this," she snapped, ignoring the look Blaine gave her. She knew he was hurting, but he had to understand. This was about family. Whatever those two boys had done together was in the past. She didn't even want to know how far they'd gotten before she'd managed to intervene, but it was over now. 

Kurt was her son. Her youngest boy. She wasn't so heartless as to just wrench him away from his father but she'd make sure he at least came to visit. Maybe they could share custody or something.

"Come on," she snapped to Blaine.

He slowly stood and followed her to the lobby of the building. They could see the two Hummels across the parking lot, backs straight and heads held high. Beside her, Blaine sighed.

Laura pursed her lips together.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: Character Death

Warning: Character Death

Kurt frowned at his dad the next morning. Burt was leaned against the kitchen counter, coffee cup in one hand, and rubbed at his arm.

"You okay, Dad?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. You ready for school?"

Kurt glanced down at his outfit and adjusted the messenger bag on his shoulder. "As ready as I'll ever be," he sighed.

After everything that happened recently, Burt had finally given in to Kurt's demands to go back to McKinley. He couldn't go back to Dalton. People knew him there. Knew about him and Blaine. At least at McKinley, all the rumors about him that were no doubt circulating around were just that. Rumors. At Dalton, they had proof. His and Blaine's relationship had unfolded right in front of their eyes.

Giving his dad one last, worried look, Kurt headed out the door to his Navigator. His dad was fine, right? The doctor had said so. Still, he couldn't help feeling a little worried by the time he pulled into the high school parking lot.

He took a few deep, steadying breath before getting out and heading for the large building where the Glee Club was so not rock stars. The jocks of the school had taken to taunting and shoving him like he'd never left, and Karofsky kept giving him long, considering looks. Kurt ducked into nearby classrooms whenever he saw the other boy.

In the middle of English class, Ms. Pillsbury and Mr. Schue appeared at the door. They both wore looks of worry and sadness on their faces which was all too familiar. A trickle of dread went down Kurt's spine.

"No," he whispered, shaking his head in denial. It couldn't be. His dad was fine!

Carole stepped between the other two adults and moved to take Kurt's hands. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks still wet with tears.

"No," Kurt repeated.

"Honey, I'm so sorry. It was his heart."

The next few hours were a blur. Kurt felt numb and the day’s events barely registered. He remembered waiting in the nurses office while Carole went to get Finn. They drove home together. The house might have been the same size it was when he’d left it, but suddenly it felt too large and empty.

Kurt escaped to his own room as soon as they got there and buried his face in his pillow. Carole came in later and sat on the side of his bed, rubbing his back and whispering words that meant nothing to him. Nothing she said could dull the sharp ache of hurt in his chest.

Kurt took charge of the funeral with the same fervor he had with the wedding a year ago. Carole, still in shock over another great loss in her life, offered no resistance and the few times he'd tried to get Finn involved, the taller boy had just stammered nonsense and blinked dumbly at all the choices.

The turnout was huge, the parlor filled not just with the few family members the Hummels had left, but with Carole's, too, as well as various people in the community, including Burt's employees and many whose cars he'd worked on over the years.

Throughout it all, Kurt remained silent and dry-eyed while Carole sobbed beside him and clung to Finn, who looked to be in a state of shock, slack-jawed and blinking furiously.

There was no preacher, just a casket surrounded by flowers, the scent of them all mingling and drifting across the mourners like a melancholy perfume. Kurt was the first to drop a flower on top of the casket before it was lowered to the ground, and he stared at it, at the red splash of color against black lacquer, until Carole touched his arm and tossed her own flower down. He stopped to drop a second flower on his mother's grave, next to which Burt had been laid to rest.

The next few days at the Hummel household were quiet, the silence occasionally broken by the doorbell ringing or a knock on the door when someone they knew stopped by, leaving covered dishes and well wishes behind.

A week later, though, two men showed up at their doorstep, but to hand Carole a slip of paper and leave.

"I don't understand," Kurt said when she sat him down later. "This is my home. She can't just _take_ me."

"Of course not, sweetie." Carole put a hand on the back of his neck. "We're going to do everything we can to fight this."

"How?" Finn asked from his spot in Burt's armchair. "Don't lawyers cost a lot of money?"

"We'll get the money. Even if we have to sell the shop."

Kurt sat up straighter. "No! You can't sell the shop. That was my dad's. You can sell my clothes, anything, just not that."

Carole sighed. "I'm going to talk to the Berrys tomorrow. I hear they've got contacts that'll be useful."

"Like lawyers and stuff?" Finn asked.

"I hope so." She squeezed Kurt's hand in hers before letting go. 

Her face was pale and dark circles had formed under eyes since Burt's death. She looked like hell, Kurt thought. He'd have to convince her to have a facial sometime soon. His dad would have wanted her to be okay, and part of being okay was looking okay, even if one had to wear a mask to do it.

Kurt should know. He wore one every day.


	8. Chapter 8

Five lawyers. The Andersons had five lawyers. Even with Kurt selling off all of his favorite, most fabulous outfits, it just wasn't enough. The garage had to be sacrificed.

"How are you holding up?" Carole asked him one day.

Kurt closed his text book with a sigh. "I miss Dad."

"I know." Carole hesitated. "Kurt, if...if your mother-"

"She's not my mother."

"Laura, then. If you have to go live with the Andersons, you know we'll still be here for you, right? Me and Finn and all your friends?"

"You're giving up?" Kurt dropped his pencil and let it roll to the floor.

"Kurt, sweetie-"

"No!" They couldn't make him go. 

"Kurt Hummel, sit down right this minute," Carole snapped. Kurt slowly sank back into his seat, looking at her with a wounded expression. "If your dad were still here, he'd give up anything, including the shop, without a second thought if it meant keeping you with us. But he would hate to see you on the streets, which is exactly what will happen if you do something drastic, like run off to New York or some other big city you can disappear in."

"How did you-?"

"You're my son, Kurt. I know how you think. Now." She took his hand. "You can call, write, whatever you want, but if you go...keep in touch, okay, honey?"

Kurt nodded, tears filling his eyes. Carole leaned in to hug him and he pressed her face against her neck to inhale the scent of her perfume, marking it in his memories.

x

He was allowed to take his things when the police came to escort him out of his home. Carole grasped him tightly and kissed his hair, his cheeks, all the skin on his face she could reach.

"Remember what we talked about, okay?" she said.

Kurt nodded, gave her hand one last squeeze, then turned to Finn, who, despite the tears in his eyes, managed to grin.

"Sorry, dude. You'll call, right?"

"Of course. They won't be able to keep me off the phone."

They hugged one last time and Kurt turned away, already feeling his chin start to wobble. He could hear Finn sniffling behind him.

Everything was already packed and ready to go, Laura waiting in the car for him with his stuff in a separate van parked behind her. Kurt paused to glare at the red Porsche. It was hideous-much too showy. If she were really his mother, she'd have bought something classier.

He dropped into the seat after opening the door, slamming it shut and crossing his arms over his chest.

Laura glanced at him. She looked torn between happiness-a smile lingered around the corners of her mouth-and worry. 

"I know this must be hard, but you'll like living with your real family better. After all, we're blood."

Kurt put the earbuds to his iPod in his ears and turned the music up as loud as he could to drown out the next words coming out of Laura's mouth. He was too busy trying not to break down to deal with her right now. He just wanted to go home-and home was not where the Andersons were at, regardless of bloodlines.

And Blaine...dear, sweet Blaine. It was going to be torture, having to be so near him and not be able to touch. All those little smiles and looks they used to share would be gone now, killed as if their relationship never existed in the first place.

Midway through a repeat of Lady Gaga's second album, the car turned onto a long, dirt road leading up a hill on which the silhouette of a large house, the size of a mansion, loomed. Kurt scowled at it. Before, in his normal life-his right life-he had been thrilled when he first stepped into Blaine's house, proud of his boyfriend's affluence, but now...now he hated the sight of it.

The van with Kurt's things in it drove off towards the back of the house while he and Laura stopped in front of the front door. Kurt reluctantly took the earbuds out as Laura started to talk.

"We'll let them get started on your room. You'll be on the second floor. It overlooks the garden, so you'll have a lovely view."

Blaine's room was on the first floor. Kurt said nothing, just got out of the car and followed her to the door. A man appeared from somewhere behind them to park the car. His name Roger, Kurt remembered. Blaine had made a brief introduction once when he'd come to take Blaine's car. Roger was tall and thin, quiet and a little bit creepy. Kurt was fairly certain that the man had lingered by Blaine's door during their makeout sessions, probably trying to listen to them kiss through the thick walls of the house.

One of the maids came running to take Laura's coat when they got inside. When she reached out to take his, Kurt brushed her off.

"What?" Laura asked. "It's her job, Kurt."

"This is made from very fine, very delicate wool. It has to be handled just right."

Laura waved a hand dismissively. "I can buy you a new coat, one that's just as good, probably even better."

"My dad bought me this coat."

Honestly, his dad had given him the credit card to get the coat with, but it kept the woman's hands off of his clothing, so mentioning his father to her, even if he didn't want to, had the desired effect.

Their shoes, Laura's heels and Kurt's boots, made sharp clicking sounds on the tile as they walked. It was eerily quiet, making Kurt wonder if everyone had left just for his arrival. Kurt couldn't blame them. Who would want to witness this awkward train wreck?

Up a winding flight of stairs and through two long hallways lay Kurt's room. Laura opened the door with a flourish and turned to smile at him.

"Welcome home, Kurt. You're going to love it here, I promise."


	9. Chapter 9

The bedroom was a lot bigger than the one he had at home; bigger than his old basement, even. Kurt had to wait for the movers to get everything into it first. Laura wouldn't let him set up his bed, so he was left to fret on the sidelines while strange, burly men situated all of his things, throwing it to and fro in their rough hands.

Laura tutted when she saw the delicate dresser coming through the doorway. "Do you really need that, Kurt? It's so...girly."

"Yes. I do." He would never tell her that it once belonged to his mom-his real mom. Laura had a spiteful streak in her, one that, had he told her, she no doubt would have immediately taken it away. At least like this, he could sometimes open the drawers for that bit of motherly comfort he still sometimes craved.

"Get dressed for dinner, then come downstairs," she said once all his furniture had been set up. "They can do the rest themselves, it's just boxes left, anyway."

Kurt took as long as he could in the bathroom fixing his hair, making sure all aspects of his outfit matched, and practicing neutral expressions in the mirror for when he had to face the people waiting for him.

When Laura called his name from the base of the stairs, he knew it he could put it off no longer. Sighing, Kurt straightened imaginary creases in his sweater before opening the bathroom door. Roger waited for him in the hallway.

"This way," he intoned in a voice to rival Lurch's.

Kurt followed him apprehensively. He'd had dinner in the Anderson's enormous dining room, sat at their enormous table, but he knew it would be different now. He'd have to look across the table and see Blaine and know that they'd never touch or kiss again, never smile at each other quite the same way again. It was going to be torture. Pure torture.

Mr. and Mrs. Anderson sat on opposite sides of the long table, Blaine left adrift in the middle.

"Come sit down," Laura said when she saw Kurt, motioning to the seat across from Blaine.

Wincing, Kurt took a deep breath and went to sit where indicated. He didn't want Blaine to think he hated him now. When he sat down, his gaze flickered over to the boy across from and back away. Blaine wasn't looking at him, just death-knuckling the fork in his hands and staring at the plate in front of him.

Kurt snorted at how Blaine was pretty much just burying his head in the sand over this whole mess. Well, that just wasn't fair to either of them. Much as it hurt to admit, the two of them were brothers. 

"So," Kurt tried. "It's nice to see you again, Blaine."

Blaine smiled half-heartedly. "Yeah. You, too."

An awkward silence fell over the table. The Andersons hadn't been talking in the first place, so it made his and Blaine sudden quietness all the more noticeable.

"Kurt, honey," Laura said. "We've got your school uniform all ready for you. I'm sure your classmates will be thrilled to welcome you back."

Kurt's jaw dropped. "Wha-no. I'm not leaving McKinley."

"Don't be ridiculous. You live in Westerville now. No one from Westerville goes to McKinley, it's too..."

"Plebian," Mr. Anderson added.

Kurt glared at him. "Well, I'm sorry to be so 'plebian', but that's my school. All of my friends are there."

"You have friends at Dalton," Blaine murmured.

"And what will we say to them, Blaine? Do you want to be the one to explain to Wes and David that you've been making out with your own brother?"

"Kurt." Laura's voice was sharp with disapproval. "We don't shout at the table."

Kurt shoved his plate away. "I'm not hungry."

Laura gaped at him as he stood. "You haven't asked to be ex-"

"I'll be in my room."

Once upstairs, he fell back onto the bare mattress of his bed and stared at the four walls of his new room. He couldn't go back to Dalton. There might be a no-bullying policy there, but still...it was humiliating, everyone there knowing what happened. No doubt they'd judge him, maybe even hate him now.

It would be like McKinley all over again. Except this time, he'd drag Blaine down with him.

"Hey." Speaking of...Blaine smiled at him from the doorway. "You okay?"

"Just great, Blaine."

"Don't do that."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kurt sniffed. He could be just as oblivious as Blaine if he wanted to.

Blaine sighed. "Come on. Don't be like that. We really should talk."

Kurt sat up and moved over, lifting his chin haughtily as he did. Blaine slid into the spot left for him.

"So. About this." Blaine waved a hand between the two of them. "About us."

Kurt looked down at his lap where his fingers twisted together anxiously and swallowed. They were really going to talk about this. "I miss you."

"I'm right here." Blaine smiled at him, though it was tinged with sadness.

"I miss kissing you."

Blaine exhaled heavily through his nose, making Kurt aware of just how close they were leaning towards each other. Their eyes met and both moved at the same time, pressing their lips together in a passionate, heated kiss.

Kurt groaned, then wrapped a hand around the back of Blaine's neck to pull him down to the bed. . They stayed like that until Laura's voice had them scrambling apart.

"What do you think you're doing?" Their mother stood in the doorway with a plate of food in her hands, her wide eyes darting between them.


	10. Chapter 10

"Uh..." Blaine stammered.  
  
Kurt sat frozen, his face hot with embarrassment.  He couldn't believe they'd slipped like that.  
  
Laura rushed forward and yanked Blaine off the bed.  "Go to your room, Blaine.  I need to talk to Kurt alone."  
  
Blaine left the room without a word, his shoulders hunched.  Kurt crossed his arms and looked at the wall to the right of him.  
  
"Look, Kurt," Laura began.  "I know your dad let you have your own way a lot but this is unacceptable.  And probably illegal.  You're going to have to learn how to control yourself while you live in this house."  
  
Kurt sniffed disdainfully.  "Right."  
  
"I'm serious, Kurt.  What you just did could have serious repercussions."  
  
"I know!"  Finally, Kurt looked her, her eyes burning with anger.  Had Laura been a more observant woman, she would have seen the thin layer of hurt hiding beneath it.   "I know, okay?"  
  
Finally, Laura's expression softened into something more sympathetic.  "This is hard.  I get it.  You're just going to have to find you another boy, that's all."  
  
Kurt's eyes filled at the mere thought of trying to replace Blaine, but he held them back, not wanting Laura to see him cry.  He jerked back when Laura tried to pet his neatly coiffed hair.  She sighed again.  
  
"Why don't you get some sleep?  You look exhausted."  
  
Kurt's lips twisted wryly and he let her kiss him on the forehead before she left, though he scrubbed at the spot when she had shut the door behind him.  Of course he was exhausted.  He'd been pulled through an emotional wringer these past few months and it was all finally catching up to him.  
  
The pillows under his head were incredibly soft and Kurt sighed as he buried his head into it.  He woke sometime later in the middle of the night.  The house was quiet, except for the steady sound of the grandfather clock near the bathroom ticking down the minutes and hours.  When it sounded out early hour of two in the morning, Kurt gave up on trying to go back to sleep and tossed back the covers to climb out of bed.  
  
He could swear his socked feet sounded like anvils on the wooden floor, though, really, they only made soft scuffling sounds in reality.  The kitchen was downstairs and through a myriad of hallways, so many that Kurt nearly got lost in his wandering.    
  
Roger stood in the kitchen, the bald dome of his head reflecting the open refrigerator door's light.  
  
"Oh."  Kurt stopped and raised a hand to his chest.  "Sorry.  I didn't know anyone was up."  
  
Roger frowned at him.  Kurt shifted uncomfortably at the unreadable look the man gave him.  He made Kurt nervous.  
  
"S-sorry," Kurt stammered.  "I'll just-"  
  
"Pie?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Roger held out a plate.  "Do you want some pie?"  
  
"Er...no, thanks."  Kurt backed slowly away and hurried to his room.  Roger was just weird.  He made even an act of kindness feel creepy.  
  
Kurt spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, listening to the tick of the clock as the hours slowly passed by.   A few times, he drifted off into a fitful doze but always woke back up, his eyes grainy with what little sleep he'd managed to get.  
  
The sound of a door slamming woke him out of his latest stupor.  He got off of the bed and went to the window.  Blaine was crossing the yard below, headed towards the parked off to the side of the long, circular driveway.  
  
Kurt had been in that car many times.  It always smelled like new car, even though it was the very one Blaine and his dad had restored a few years ago.  Kurt and Blaine used to make out in that car.  
  
He flicked the curtains shut and crawled back into bed, this time actually getting under the covers and burrowing himself into the mattress.    
  
x  
  
 _Kurt might be nearly grown but somehow found himself sitting in front of his old tea set, an empty cup lifted in one hand.  
  
"Okay, buddy."  Burt lifts his hand and takes a sip of piping hot, pretend liquid.  
  
"Dad."  
  
When Kurt wraps his arms around his father's waist, the man crumbles beneath him.  
_  
x  
  
A nearby rustling jerked Kurt out of sleep.  He scrubbed at the tears on his eyes and turned to find Laura rifling through the clothes he'd so carefully hung in the closet.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Just going through your clothes.  I know you'll be wearing a uniform to school, but these clothes just are not appropriate for when you're home.  I'll have to take you shopping."  
  
Kurt yanked a shirt from her hands, one he'd saved up for months to get, started to clean up the mess she'd made.  "Stay away from my clothes."  
  
"But, Kurt, this stuff-"  
  
"Is mine, so back off!"  
  
Laura's lips pressed together and she scowled as Kurt started putting things back on hangers and did his best to ignore her.  When he reached around her to pick up a dropped boot-a black, knee highed one with laces up the front-she turned on her heel and left the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.  
  
 Kurt stopped, then, and curled up on the closet floor, feeling more alone than McKinley had ever made him.  At least then, he had his dad.  Now he had nothing but a critical guardian and a broken heart.


	11. Chapter 11

While Blaine was away at school, Kurt decided to look around.    
  
"So how's it going?" Carole asked as he crept downstairs.  "Is Laura treating you well?"  
  
"If Dad hadn't confirmed it before he died, I would ask for a blood test just to make sure we're related."  
  
Carole chuckled.  "You're a lot more like your father than you realize."  
  
The compliment warmed Kurt up inside.  "I always thought I took after my m-my real mom."  
  
"Kurt," Carole sighed.  
  
"I'm not sorry," Kurt said defiantly.   
  
"I know.  Just try not to let her hear you say that, okay?"  
  
"Fine.  I won't let her hear me say that I take after my real mother."  He rushed on before Carole could rebuke him for the backtalk.  "How's Finn doing?  Still with Rachel?"  
  
"Oh, you know how that goes," Carole said.  "He's with some other girl right now, but you know the two of them will be back together again in a month, tops."  
  
It was bright outside, a nice day, really, so Kurt turned towards the back of the house towards where he knew the horses were kept.  He didn't ride, but Blaine had taken him to the stables once and they'd spent a few lazy minutes making out on top of one of the haystacks.  
  
Kurt turned away from them and closed his eyes as the last memory of the two of them here overwhelmed him.  When he opened his eyes, a horse was staring straight into his eyes.  
  
"Ack!"  He leapt away from the stall, a hand to his beating heart, only to hit another roadblock.  
  
"Hey, you must be Kurt."    
  
Kurt's mouth dropped open.  "You-y-you're-?"  
  
"Yeah."  The guy from The Commercial tossed his head back and preened.  
  
"Wait a minute."  Kurt frowned at him.  "What are you doing here?  Not that it's not great to meet you."  He did not giggle like a lovestruck kid.  Really.  "But how do you know the Andersons?"  
  
He got an odd look to that answer, then a hand thrust in front of him.  
  
"I'm Cooper, actually.  Cooper Anderson?"  
  
Kurt's smile faded.  "You're Blaine's brother."  
  
"And it looks like I'm yours, too, huh, lil' bro?"  He moved to ruffle Kurt's hair but his hand froze in mid-air at the death glare Kurt shot him.  He turned to the horse instead and patted its neck.  "You know how to ride?"  
  
"Oh, no."  Kurt laughed nervously and backed away with a hand raised.  "God, no.  The last time I was near a horse, it mistook my favorite pashmina for a haystack.  I still haven't fully recovered from the loss."  
  
"Don't be stupid.  How in the world are you going to make a dramatic impact without a horse?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Cooper pulled himself up in the saddle and puffed out his chest.   "A horse makes you look like you're intense about life, serious-plus, if you ride really fast, your hair'll do this really cool thing with the wind."  
  
Kurt patted his hair as if offended at the thought.  He had to admit, though, that Cooper was right.  His hair, not as curly as Blaine's, blew back from his forehead and gave him a roguish look that Kurt found quite attractive.  
  
Which couldn't be good.  Did Kurt have some weird incest fetish or what?    
  
Speaking of weird incest fetish...  
  
"Hey," Blaine called out as he crossed over to the stables where Cooper was brushing down his horse.  "What's going on?"  He paused when he noticed Kurt leaning against one of the doors.  "Have you been horse riding?"  
  
Kurt shuddered.  "You know I don't like horses."  
  
Blaine's lips quirked up into a smile.  "Yeah, I know."  
  
Both of their tentative smiles fell when they both remembered the haystack nearby.    
  
Cooper stepped away from his horse and peered over the stall door at them.  "So...is this one of those awkward 'I slept with my brother' moments?"  
  
"We didn't have sex," Kurt snapped, his face turning hot with embarrassment.  
  
"It wasn't for lack of trying," Blaine blurted out.  Kurt glared at him while Cooper doubled over laughing.  
  
"Come on."  Cooper clapped one hand on Blaine's shoulder, the other on Kurt's.  "Let's go get a snack."  
  
Blaine smiled at Kurt from his place at Cooper's side.  For once, Kurt managed to smile back without feeling like his heart might break in two.  For all his faults, Cooper made things seem a bit normal between-not like it was before, of course, but maybe this could be their new normal.  He and Blaine as brothers.  
  
Roger was waiting for them in the kitchen when they came through the door.  A plate of cookies and glasses of milk sat on the table.  
  
"Thanks, Rog," Cooper said, patting the weird man on the back as he took a seat at the counter.    
  
"Thank you," Blaine echoed.  
  
Kurt took a seat beside them without a word.  Roger's eyes bored into his back, making his shoulders itch.  
  
The cookies, like most food these days, tasted stale in Kurt’s mouth.

   
x  
  
“Mom?”  Finn crossed the living room to where Carole stood staring out the window, wrapped up in her robe and a cup of coffee cradled in her hands.  “What are you doing?”  
  
Carole turned to give him a small smile and sighed.  “It’s just so quiet here now without the two of them.”  
  
Her lower lip quivered.  Finn pulled his mother to him and let her cry.  She used to do the same thing for him, except this pain was bigger than a skinned knee or lost game cartridge.  He couldn’t just buy her ice cream to cover the loss.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm back! Here's a preview of what I'm working on with Blackbird. So sorry for the REALLY long wait. I'm still determined to finished my Glee WIPs.

It took a week for Kurt to throw up his hands and yell, “I’m going to school!”

Did his mother not work? She’d spent the whole time trailing behind him, making little ‘suggestions’ that weren’t and generally just being a pain in the backside. The only way he could get a little relief was by hiding out in the stables. Blaine and Cooper usually appeared later in the day. He and Blaine had gotten comfortable enough to make small talk, but when Cooper was there, he dominated the conversation, letting Kurt and Blaine off the hook. 

The day he was ready to go back, Blaine knocked on the door while he was putting the finishing touches on his Dalton uniform. Kurt pinned a brooch to the lapel of his jacket and called out, “Come in!”

Blaine peeked around the door. “Are you ready?” He looked nervous, fingering his Dalton tie and shifting from foot to foot.

Kurt sighed. “No. Are you?”

“Come on. It’ll be fine.”

Kurt grabbed his satchel off the bed, gave Blaine a nervous smile, and they headed out the door together to Blaine’s car. The drive to Dalton was awkward, stilted. Neither could look directly at the other, just sneak sidelong glances full of meaning. Meaning that should no longer be, not now that they were blood.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> grumblegrumble...I want them to talk but I'm having trouble hearing them in my head.

Both Kurt and Blaine threw themselves into their school work to pass the time and to stop thoughts of each other-bad thoughts, unbrotherly thoughts-out of their heads. Kurt spent a lot of time outdoors, often resting on the haystacks he’d avoided before, just to get away from the people inside.

One rainy afternoon, Kurt dozed on top of a bale of hay with the rain pattering outside. The sound of it hitting the roof nearly put him to sleep but the sound of a foot crunching the ground made him peer over at the doors. Blaine stood there, a smile on his lips.

“Hey.”

Kurt smiled back at him. “Hey back. No practice tonight?”

“Half the Warblers are home with the flu.” Blaine hesitated, glanced at the spot beside Kurt. “Can I sit?”

Kurt patted the spot beside him and Blaine sat a few inches farther away from there. “Rainy day, isn’t it?” Small talk seemed the best way to go, something casual so that they could both pretend the past never happened.

“Yes, Blaine. That would be why there’s rain.”

Blaine gave him a half-smile. They couldn’t talk about what they really needed to, so instead continued chatting about inane things like the weather. Somehow, they ended up inching closer together until Blaine’s hip was pressed against the line of Kurt’s arm. Kurt glanced up at him and Blaine looked away, blushing.

“The rain’s letting up,” he said, then cleared his throat.

Kurt’s eyes never left him. “Yeah. Shame. I like the rain. Sounds nice.”

“Hmmm.”

Kurt moved the arm touching Blaine’s hip until he could reach a hand over. “Blaine.” His voice was quiet, husky...longing.

Blaine stared at wear Kurt was running his fingers lightly over the back of Blaine’s hand and swallowed thickly. He turned his own over and gripped Kurt’s, folding his fingers in a firm hold.


End file.
